


it's okay.

by NeverNothing



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Explicit Sexual Language, M/M, Pining, special mention for Miya Atsumu, yeah i guess that one too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverNothing/pseuds/NeverNothing
Summary: It was okay. Kenma was used to this. He was used to seeing Kuroo surrounded like this, having an arm thrown around his shoulder and smiling at people Kenma did not even know. Kuroo was simply charming like that, a sociable person. Kenma was used to it, he didn't mind.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 186





	it's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the edited version of a [fic thread](https://twitter.com/kentetsurou/status/1297548402981576704) I posted on twitter, in case anyone finds this familar.

It was okay. Kenma was used to this. He was used to seeing Kuroo surrounded like this, having an arm thrown around his shoulder and smiling at people Kenma did not even know. Kuroo was simply charming like that, a sociable person. Kenma was used to it, he didn't mind.

That's what he kept telling himself, ignoring the painful tug in his heart, ignoring the voice that told him Kuroo should be looking at him. It was okay.This meant nothing. Kenma had no reason to get worked up over this. Kuroo and him, they were friends. Just friends.

So he averted his gaze and turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with Keiji. They had been talking about the job Keiji had started that week and it was fine, comfortable, talking to an old friend, being surrounded by old friends in this old pub.

The heat of people had warmed up the space. Kenma, who often felt cold, appreciated it even more considering he had been forgoing his usual combination of sweater and sweats for something nicer. He usually did, on days he went out with Kuroo to meet friends even though he told himself it was no big deal. There was no special reason Kenma opted for the more uncomfortable tight clothing. Especially not the way Kuroo looked at him when he went to fetch him from his home.

At this point, Kenma was familiar enough with this pub they frequented to feel comfortable, the wooden counters and equally wooden oak panels on the wall emanating a mature air. The music, while noticeable with low beats, was not overbearing. Keiji and him were sitting at one of the many tables, the bench he was seated on was placed against the wall, allowing Kenma to keep an eye on the surroundings.

The boisterous noise around them would have been overwhelming for Kenma years ago but it was fine now. He knew how nights like this usually ended. Kenma took a sip of his cider, apple flavor sweet on his sour mood. He kept his gaze fixed on his glas but it was impossible not to overhear the drawl of kuroo's voice, even among the noise. 

The tone was low and humming and without even needing to understand what exactly he was saying, Kenma knew Kuroo was flirting. It was okay. It was fine. They were friends. It didn't mean anything. It wouldn't change anything. It was the way it always was. 

A night spent out together with friends at a pub and as the night progressed, Kuroo would find someone to spend time with until dawn. It was fine. Kenma hunched his shoulders, wanting to ignore the way shivers were running down his spine because of the murmur of kuroo's voice that wasn't directed at him. As always, he was vividly aware of Kuroo's presence, orbiting in and around his consciousness. Kenma took another sip and smiled at Keiji's raised eyebrows. It was not convincing.

Thankfully, Keiji didn't ask him if he was alright. The answer was obvious. However, that did not mean Keiji was going to just gloss over the situation.

His tone was serious and he was mustering Kenma closely. His eyes lingered on Kenma’s hunched shoulders and his tense grip on his glass. "Kenma, do you really want to continue like this?"

"Like what?" Staring at his nails, bitten from the recent stress his deadlines had caused, he tried his best to give off an uncaring air.

After all these years, Keiji would not be fooled by it. "You're hurting."

"I'm not." The lie was obvious even to his own ears but he did not try to come up with something more convincing. They both knew Keiji was right.

If this were Kuroo he was talking to, there was no way he would let the situation go. They would start bickering until either Kenma's mood improved or until he gave in and admitted to whatever was bothering him. But it wasn't Kuroo he was talking to. Keiji let the topic drop. It was fine.

It was fine even when he chanced another glance in Kuroo's direction and saw that he was not only still crowded but someone was also resting a hand on his thigh. Kuroo didn't remove it. Kenma sighed. It was okay. Kuroo was attractive. He never had trouble finding someone who was interested in him. It appeared he had found this someone for tonight. He didn't mind. 

Maybe he would find someone, too. And then, for the rest of the night, he would try to ignore the guilt he was feeling when the one he was thinking about would not be his partner for the night but his childhood friend, who was throwing his head back in a hearty laugh. It wasn't the overly obnoxious one that secretly not only annoyed Kenma but made him feel overly fond. Instead, it was his people-laugh. Pleasant. Charming. Kenma liked this laugh too even if he preferred the more honest version.

It was hard to keep his thoughts at bay. He wanted to scoff at the people that surrounded Kuroo, wanted to tell them that they didn't know him at all, to move away, to make space. But he didn't. They were just friends.

He was expecting it when from the corner of his sight, he saw Kuroo make his way over. Tipping his glas, his beverage was sloshing in an abrupt movement. He was trying to appear unbothered, bored maybe. 

Kuroo would be coming over to tell Kenma to go home without him, to worry not, that he would go ahead and that they'd see each other tomorrow. Kenma would nod and wish him a lot of fun. Maybe tease him, telling him to be safe even as his stomach turned upside-down. Then, Kuroo would leave. It would be fine, they would still be friends the next day. It was okay.

The weight of Kuroo's body jostled him when Kuroo finally joined him on the bench he was sitting on, throwing an arm over his shoulders and a bright grin on his face. The blush on his cheeks was only one of the signs revealing his drunkenness. It was endearing. 

His breath was puffing against Kenma's neck, unknowingly setting Kenma's body on fire.

"Kenmaa-" he drawled out the last vowel of Kenma's name, not quite facing him directly but his face was close.

Kenma hummed, steeling himself for the inevitable.

“Sorry to interrupt, by the way." Kuroo was suddenly addressing Keiji when he said this but turned back to Kenma almost immediately. Kenma told himself he didn't enjoy the attention. "When do you think you're leaving?"

There it was.

Kenma finished his glass of cider to postpone the moment he would have to answer. To postpone Kuroo leaving. His fingers were tapping against the now empty glass as he hummed again. He was avoiding Kuroo's gaze but Kuroo did not even notice.

"Not sure, maybe another hour or two.” It seemed like hours these words formed, they felt sluggish in his mouth. “Are you leaving?"

Kuroo would tell him to get home safely, he would be leaving first. Kenma wanted another drink.

"Ah-" 

Kenma closed his eyes, awaiting the answer like a death sentence. 

"Nope." Kuroo popped the last syllable and leaned more of his weight against Kenma, as if those words had zapped him of his strength. Or maybe he was more drunk than he seemed.

Kenma's head shot up, unsure whether what he heard was correct.

"You're not leaving?" Kenma surveyed the surroundings. The guy Kuroo had been flirting with - the guy that had been flirting with Kuroo - was at the bar, looking over to them.

With a dopey grin, Kuroo shook his head.

"I thought you were getting along well with that guy you were talking to." Kenma felt like he was digging his own grave. Why was he even asking this? It's what a friend would do, he told himself. He was being supportive, he told himself.

"Ah, about that-" Kuroo chuckled nervously, following Kenma's gaze and making eye contact with the guy at the bar counter. "We were - getting along, I mean."

"- and you're staying." Kenma tilted his head, frowning.

"Yep", obviously wanting to change the topic, Kuroo continued. "let me get you a drink!" 

Grabbing Kenma's empty glass, Kuroo stumbled on his way to the bar. Kenma wasn't sure if that was the alcohol getting to Kuroo's head or if there was another reason Kuroo was behaving this awkwardly. Did something happen?

He worried, of course. As a friend.

Keiji cleared his throat and it was only then that Kenma remembered his friend was even there. His ears burned when Keiji raised an eyebrow at him. Feeling merciful, Keiji chose to stay silent. Once again, Kenma averted his gaze. It was drawn to Kuroo. He was leaning casually against the bar counter, exchanging words with the barkeeper - ordering, probably - and then faced the guy he had been talking to earlier. Kenma frowned.

"I don't understand," he muttered under his breath.

But of course, Keiji heard him. He was observing the situation calmly. "Maybe they didn't hit it off?"

"Why would he come here then?" Kenma frowned again, then sighed. He really wanted a drink. "Usually, when that happens, he just continues with someone else until he finds someone." 

And it did not seem like Kuroo and that guy weren't hitting it off, they seemed to get along well Kuroo even seemed flustered by something he had said, even though one might think it would be difficult to tell from this distance. But not for Kenma, who knew Kuroo's tells better than Kuroo himself did.

Kenma leaned back in his seat, sinking into the dark cushion, and faced Keiji. "Distract me, I don't wanna think about it.”

So Keiji did, or he tried to. They talked about the guy Keiji met while getting onigiri, about Hinata, who was still in Brazil. Without a glass to occupy his hands with, Kenma was feeling restless. There was nothing to distract himself with as he forced himself to not check in on Kuroo. He did not want to see another cycle begin.

Against his expectations, Kuroo returned, filled classes in hand. He plopped down beside Kenma once again with a deep sigh as he got comfortable. Without a word, he passed Kenma his glass and carefully, Kenma nipped at his beverage. It came as no surprise that Kuroo knew exactly what Kenma would order.

Kuroo was oddly silent as he listened to them both talk, his arm resting on the backrest behind Kenma nonchalantly. Kenma was extremely aware of his closeness but pretended he wasn't. This was odd. Why wasn't Kuroo socializing?

Noticing this as well, Keiji put a halt to their conversation. "I'm getting another round." 

Kenma had finished his glass of cider already. His anxiousness was making him drink more quickly than he'd like. "What can I get for you, Kuroo-san?"

It was obvious Keiji was trying to create an opportunity for them to talk, subtly inferring whether Kuroo was intending to stay. Kenma did not appreciate it.

But of course, Kuroo gladly accepted the offer and thus, both of them were left alone at their table. And once again, Kenma had no glass to fidget with. There was only Kuroo's arm warming his back. This was fine.

It was okay. They were just friends.

Kenma took a deep breath. The alcohol was getting to his head, his tongue was loose. "Why are you not leaving?"

"Do you want me to?" Kuroo’s face revealed nothing, his tone was carefully neutral.

Frowning in disapproval, Kenma silently admonished Kuroo. "You know this is not what I mean."

"I just want to spend some more time with you, is that illegal?" Kuroo had assumed a tone of grandeur. The way he did when he tried to gloss over a fact. But Kenma had no idea what that fact was and it unsettled him. There was not a lot Kenma did not know about Kuroo.

He had no choice but to point out, his voice restrained. "You usually don't."

Kuroo grew quiet. "I know," he whispered. "Sorry. I leave you behind a lot."

"It's okay, I don't mind." It was rare that Kenma lied to Kuroo but it seemed necessary in this case.

"You do." 

Kenma hadn't realized before, too busy staring at the table in front of him. Kuroo was watching him. "You do mind."

 _Ah_ , Kenma thought, of course he would know. It was foolish of him to assume otherwise. Kenma knew Kuroo better than anyone else did but it also went the other way around. Kuroo knew him better than anyone else.

Kenma grew rigid, then quickly forced himself to relax again. Kuroo would notice. He sighed again, tapping a finger against the wooden table. His body felt lax. It must be the alcohol. He leaned back, into Kuroo's arm.

He felt Kuroo's fingers twitch against his shoulders as he looked up at Kuroo, his eyes felt heavy. He must have had a little bit too much to drink. Or there was something about the situation that made him feel tipsy.

Whatever it was, it made him daring. "What if I do?"

"You can tell me. You know I love-" Kenma's breath hitched "-spending time with you." And then left him in a huff. Because they were friends.

All of the sudden, Kenma was fed up. Fed up and tired. He was sick of the situation and sick of feeling sorry for himself. He wanted to put an end to this.

Maybe getting rejected would speed up the process. Put an end to the feelings he had been harbouring and denying for years. Maybe he would finally be able to move on. It has been years. He didn't care. He would be fine. He felt like crying and the attention Kuroo was giving him when he should be out looking for a lay made everything worse. It made him hope.

It made him hope when Kenma had forcibly resigned himself to never voice his thoughts on this matter, to disregard the way his eyes were drawn to Kuroo’s form - no matter whether he was dressed up the way he was now, with form-hugging slacks, a dress shirt with buttons undone to hint the line of his inner chest and rolled up sleeves, or whether he hadn’t showered in three days because assignments were kicking his ass. The way he longed to reach out, the way he wished their fleeting hugs would linger. The way he relished, his body rejoiced, when Kuroo touched him.

They were just friends.

It didn’t mean anything. It would never. Kenma was sure of it the first time he saw Kuroo take someone else home, the first night Kenma was left behind. 

They would always be friends.

"So what if I told you I mind?" The words burst out of Kenma, his voice emotionless because he couldn't allow himself to feel right now. He had been feeling too much for too long. 

Maybe, after this, they wouldn't even be that. Just friends.

The voice was ruthless, impossible to silence. It rang inside Kenma’s head like an old friend.

Kenma was so tired, he didn't want any of this.

He wanted another drink.

"What if I told you I hate it?" Kenma straightened, suddenly overwhelmed with Kuroo's closeness. He needed distance, his skin felt electrified and he no longer had control over his mouth. "What if I told you I hate it everytime you leave with someone else? If I told you I hate it when you have strangers all over you when you should be - could be- spending time with me? 

“If I told you I want you to pay attention to me? It doesn't matter, Kuro. we're just friends." Kenma felt dizzy, he was struggling to keep his tone even. This would be it. He wanted to cry but no tears were coming. He felt like a mess but was oddly composed, empty. He didn't want to face Kuroo. He thought he wouldn't care, thought he would be fine but he didn't want to be rejected. Not by Kuroo. Kuroo was important, even if they were just friends.

It felt like ages until Kuroo responded.

"But I do." It was nothing like what kenma expected his response would be. His dazed mind had trouble comprehending.

"Apparently, I do." Kuroo began again. "I didn't even notice it myself. I can't believe I needed Atsumu to point it out for me."

Nothing Kuroo said was making any sort of sense. Kenma had no idea who Atsumu was. 

Kuroo understood his silence as the confusion it was. "I keep checking on you. Keep an eye on you. I think I want to see if anyone comes up to talk to you. To take you home."

He starts rambling then, the way he always does when he gets overwhelmed with his thoughts or emotions. Or both. 

"It's fucking obvious, apparently. No wonder the guys I pick up always ask me if I am sure. I wasn't, it seemed. It wasn't them that I wanted. Do you know how embarrassing it is to moan a name that is definitely not the name of the guy you are currently having sex with?" Kenma knew. Oh, how Kenma knew. "I might be a fucking idiot for not realizing why I don't want to see their face when I cum. Oh god, how I wished it was you.

I can feel your gaze, you know? I can feel it when you look at me and I like it." Kuroo's hand that had been clutching the backrest balled into a fist instead. He was shaking. He laughed, then, and silently swore under his breath.

“I know what you do after I leave. Not always, of course, but I know. And sometimes,” Kuroo laughed again, “not sometimes but I think about it, you know? I imagine it, what kind of guy you would pick, what you might look like when you’re spread out on the sheets of some cheap motel. Sometimes I wonder if you might be in the room beside mine and I -”, Kuroo’s voice cracked then and he broke off. His honesty was uncontrollable.

Kenma was reeling, like he had been thrown into the deep sea with no aid to help him swim. He couldn’t feel his fingers, his body did not seem to cooperate. "And yet, you still leave."

"Yeah." This was a trainwreck. "Because -"

"-we're just friends," Kenma finished. This was the only thing that made sense, the one fact that he could cling to while the rest of his world exploded in turmoil.

"Yeah." Kuroo repeated lamely, his chest heaving. The dizziness hit Kenma tenfold, his surrounding blurring together. Only Kuroo remained oddly in focus, the cheeks that were burning red, his eyes, wide open and staring at Kenma. When had Kenma turned to face him? Both of them did not believe what was happening.

"We're just friends." Kenma echoed himself because that's all they were, always had been, always would be. Nothing more. They were not longing for each other's attention, thinking of each other when in bed with someone else. Friends didn't do that.

As if all of his words had been swallowed up, his usual finesse abandoning him, Kuroo only repeated himself once again. "Yeah."

That's all they ever could be, that's all that would ever come of their relationship. Out of the twelve years they have spent together until now. They weren't set out to be anything more. Kuroo was charming, he was sociable. He'd smile at people Kenma did not even know. Kenma was used to it, he didn't mind. They would just be friends.

But then, a desperate note entered Kuroo's voice, pulling him out of his thoughts. "But Kenma-" he was trembling, more pronounced than ever before. "I don't think I want to be."

_oh._

"Oh." Now it was Kenma who was trembling, shaking, as if infected. This was out of his zone of comfort. Out of the realm of possibilities Kenma had considered and it left him lost in the sea Kuroo had thrown him into.

When he reached out to steady himself, his hand was shaking and Kuroo grasped it tightly. He anchored himself to the touch.

They were interrupted by the clink of glasses, set down on their table. A waiter. The senses that had been focused entirely on Kuroo until now widened to encompass the rest of the pub again, it made Kenma breath in deeply and provided some oxygen Kenma sorely needed. Everything was spinning.

Kenma spied Keiji at the bar counter, standing beside the guy Kuroo had been talking to the entire night. Both of them were looking over to where Kuroo and he were but neither made a move to come closer. _Oh._

Carefully, Kenma extended his free hand to the glass, drawing on the condensed water on the outside. He should be saying something, should be replying. He should be thinking something but everything that was staring back at him was a deafening silence. He didn't know. He wanted to drink but maybe he shouldn't.

He did care.

And Kuroo simply waited, looked at him patiently, ran a thumb over the crease of Kenma's hands in a motion so tender it pulled at every corner of Kenma's soul. It was almost unbearable. Kenma wanted more.

It wasn't what friends did, but Kuroo did not want to be friends.

Kenma's lips were dry, he licked them but it didn't help. He was aware of kuroo's gaze on him and his body was tingling. His next few words took all of his willpower, drunken assistance smoothing the way. "What do you want to be, then?"

Kuroo let go of Kenma's hand, instead carefully cradling Kenma's head. His hands were shaking and the tips of his fingers against his neck so gentle Kenma felt his heart break and put itself back together, realigning itself to something that was more right, something that would be better.

His voice was nothing more than a whisper when he replied. "I want you to be mine."

They both gasped on the impact of these words, years of unspoken desires gushing to the surface. "I want you to continue looking at me, I want you to allow me to check in on you- to make sure no one except me takes you home.

I want to be the one who spreads you out on silken sheets of the most expensive hotel I can afford because that’s what you deserve. I want to give you excitement no one else can come close to, bliss that makes you forget everyone you had before. I want to see your face when I- " Kuroo's voice cracked again, but he didn't need to say it out loud. Kenma knew. 

"I want you to allow me to have you." Kuroo's thumb was caressing his checks and it was then that Kenma realized the wetness. Kuroo was wiping away the tears that had finally freed himself from where Kenma had caged them in.

"You always did." It seemed Kuroo’s honesty was unarming, infectious. Kenma felt like he had been cut open and was bleeding out alive. Instead of pain, he was accompanied by a lightness he hadn’t felt in years.

Kuroo chuckled but his voice sounded hoarse. "But apparently I'm an idiot who needs strangers to point out the obvious. Will you still have me in return, too?"

There was no delay in his answer, no hesitation. He didn't reply with words, it was spoken in the way his hand curled along Kuroo's face, tapping against his temple, in the way he was smiling softly and in the way he breathed out, the gasp not forming Kuroo's name but calling out to him anyway. 

"We're not just friends." Kenma had to say it out loud, the reality slowly sinking in, wrapping him in warmth that had nothing to do with his drunken state.

"Yeah," Kuroo drew closer once again. "You are everything I always wanted."

Kenma closed the barely there distance between them, sighing with the bliss Kuroo's lips stirred in his body. The way they fell into each other felt natural, years of mutual fantasies spurrin their actions. Kenma’s heart was racing, his hand shaking and grasping at Kuroo. Tilting his head up, their kiss deepened. The hand that wandered under his clothes set him alit, let him burn and made him gasp. When Kuroo’s tongue licked his lower lip, asking for entrance, Kenma’s body trembled in the ecstasy that would follow later that night. This was everything he had been waiting for, this was just their beginning. 

Kuroo was charming, he was sociable. He smiled at people Kenma did not even know. It was fine. Kenma did mind. They weren't just friends. Not anymore. Kuroo was his.

Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> see me [| on Twitter](https://twitter.com/kentetsurou)


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